“Caribou Lou” is a song by the Kansas City rapper Tech N9ne, and it was track 9 on his 2006 album, Everready (The Religion)
One of the fastest and most slept on rappers out there, Tech N9ne deserves a lot more credit than he gets. From rap battles to the insane amount of music he has put out, the guy puts in the work and did a lot of it without the help of a major record label
He also deserves a lot of credit for this song, which introduced the world to a delicious drink called Caribou Lou. Like the chorus says, the drink consisted of 151 rum, pineapple juice, and Malibu, and it was delicious (notice the use of past tense). If you never tried it, you’re shit out of luck. Bacardi discontinued 151 a few years back due to its extremely high alcohol content (75.5%), so RIP to Caribou Lou
Although it was a very good and fun drink, it came with many side effects, such as falling down a lot, fighting strangers, and waking up next to a girl that looks like Shrek. Seriously, this drink was a straight mind eraser. I probably drank it like 5 times in high school/college, and it was a guaranteed blackout every single time. I don’t know the chemistry behind it, but apparently mixing Malibu, 151, and pineapple juice is how they make roofies.
Regardless, great song, great drink, let’s have a Saturday and get fucking hammered tonight folks
PS: The first line of the 3rd verse is fucking hilarious. “Tar bender, I need a drother nink”. That’s exactly how you would be talking after a few glasses of Caribou Lou. Trust me
LYRICS
Two cups will get her hot and out of her clothes ya know?
Caribou Lou it’s like
Caribou get them all numb
Make baby girl come, out of her shell and raise hell
Don’t stop ’til the cops come
One cup of Malibu Rum, baby that’s whassup then you
Fill the rest of the jug with pineapple juice and it’s crackin’
The only defect is waking up like what happened
I like red light parties and fed right bodies who like
Bread like Dolly and head right totties at night
Aribou Cay oulay
Terrible day you pay the liquor store teller
With no hair or toupee, touché
Get the party jumping, keep the hotties humpin’
I like ’em thick and juicy so don’t Pilates nothin’
Drinkin’ too much Lou you
Might be karate punchin’ or at the back of the club
Attending the naughty luncheon
Satin, Kool-Aid gives you hella 151 November dog so run kitty run
We gon’ drink it until we dumb-ditty-dumb, bum-bitty-bum
Here Kansas City come so give me some
Caribou get them all numb
Make baby girl come, out of her shell and raise hell
We gon’ party ’til the cops come
151 Rum, pineapple juice and Malibu
Caribou get them all numb
Make baby girl come, out of her shell and raise hell
Don’t stop ’til the cops come
Might be trouble, might see pistols
We ain’t tryna hear you haters sucking on sickles
We living it up in two double O sizzle
Wonder you may bro, until your day go
Why I’m the one to drink you under the table
And all the ladies I will do in time
Once you become a member of my drinking club you will find Tech N9ne
Trying to tell her truly get nudey yes
I even do L-words in their fruity bizutti
Like to drink it and yell slurs at the movies
If I’m heated I’m off to get Caribou Lou to cool me
Created by Tech Nizzle and T. Wizzle one high day
We mixed it up and then I say we treat Caribizzle like our lady
Originated in Kansas City, Missouri since 1995 baby
Caribou get them all numb
Make baby girl come, out of her shell and raise hell
Don’t stop ’til the cops come
Caribou get them all numb
Make baby girl come, out of her shell and raise hell
We gon’ party ’til the cops come
Caribou get them all numb
Make baby girl come, out of her shell and raise hell
Don’t stop ’til the cops come
Release Caribou Lou in a party and it’s utter kink
Insane manie, keep ’em coming then I’ll remain zany
‘Cause Sadatay baby I’m trying to make you my main damey
For the rest of the night, girl you’re sexy, you’re tight
Come to me casa and see the chakra flexin’ you right
Groupies at 12 o’clock man I’ll crawl, I’ll go
Yeah I’ll recruit ’em, but I better not crap that’s all I know
Yep in my white T and Nikes you might sight me
Slightly hyph and might see dry heaves
Die we shall not need I.V.’s beside me Siamese
(Tech!) Huh? (You’re not making any sense!)
I might make her wanna swing her Prada
But once I get up on the mic and do my thing I got her (Tech!)
Hey, batter batter batter batter sah-wing-a, batter
He can hit, he can hit, he can hit, sah-wing-a, batter
Caribou get them all numb
Make baby girl come, out of her shell and raise hell
We gon’ party ’til the cops come
151 Rum, pineapple juice and Malibu
Caribou get them all numb
Make baby girl come, out of her shell and raise hell
Don’t stop ’til the cops come
Caribou get them all numb
Make baby girl come, out of her shell and raise hell
We gon’ party ’til the cops come
151 Rum, pineapple juice and Malibu
Caribou get them all numb
Make baby girl come, out of her shell and raise hell
Don’t stop ’til the cops come
Yeah, yeah oh
Da-da-da-da-da-da-da
Kaliko
‘Cause I drink it, but they ain’t paying me for it
Not yet!
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